


Like Grains of Sand, Through My Fingers You Slip

by Atol



Series: It Was Always You [6]
Category: Good Omens, RPF - Fandom, mcyt
Genre: Amnesia, Demon!Badboyhalo, M/M, Paradise Found, Pining, Skeppy is bad at being Not!Annoying and Bad is confused, They got by other names but its v obvs so dont get too worried yet, angel!Skeppy, dialouge, skeppy just wants his boo back and bad knows nothingggg, techincally
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:42:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27340681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Atol/pseuds/Atol
Summary: Zaqiel was going to find him. He wasn't sure what he would do, when he did, but that was a problem for Future Zaqiel.
Relationships: Skeppy/Badboyhalo, skephalo - Relationship
Series: It Was Always You [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1968790
Comments: 2
Kudos: 79





	Like Grains of Sand, Through My Fingers You Slip

**Author's Note:**

> First meeting (In Bad's understanding), where Skep makes a deal to get the ball rolling. This is technically a flashback.

It was still damp, as a general rule. The earth under his feet had a slight give to it, a pliancy that he wasn't too certain of as he walked. There had been less and less demons that crossed his path, nowadays. He wasn't sure if that was due to him going through them so quickly and brutally, of if they were just learning to avoid him instead. 

Regardless it meant that his search was waylaid as he tried to pick up the trail once more. Humans were already reproducing at a rate that was honestly a little concerning, in his honest opinion. And they did not take kindly to seeing him with his wings out, so he had been forced to start trying to disguise himself with a heavenly miracle to tone down his eyes, his wings, the aura of Grace that radiated from him. To make him more ordinary and approachable. 

At least he didn't have to tell people to fear not when he went out for a snack. 

He was in encampment of people, lurking on the edges and mostly just witnessing the going-ons of the humans who had no idea who or what he was. It was working it's way towards becoming an actual village, but their fortifications left something to be desired. 

Lost in thought, wondering if it would be worth his time to set an actual trap for a demon to gain more information, of if he would only need to wait for one to cross him once more after a lull, he sensed Damnation tickling at his senses. Glancing towards where he could feel the icy flicker of the feeling, he tensed, more in disbelief than anything else. He was here. 

“I've seen you, over there. Don't think I didn't notice you sneaking up on me.” Zaqiel turned, facing the demon, with his arms crossed. “What was your plan, exactly?” 

The demon stood up straight from where he had been crouching and shrugged before looking away as if embarrassed. 

“I hadn't really had much of any plan. I was just curious.” The demon muttered. 

“Curious?” He asked.

“You were just standing there doing nothing. So yes, curious. I know your reputation.” Abaddon said, and he took a step back as Zaqiel approached him. 

“I couldn't possibly know what you mean by that. I haven't even told you my name yet.” The angel said, with a slight purr. 

Perhaps there would be some sliver, some small memory or spot in the demons tattered memories that had him in it. 

“I'm Zaqiel, it's a pleasure to meet you properly. I was a bit busy the first time we crossed paths. Sorry for the quick exit.” He said, expectation heavy in his tone, hope carrying it to a friendlier tone than it otherwise would have been. 

Abaddon smiled timidly back at him and gulped as his back hit a nearby tree. He could escape, it was disgustingly easy to tap into his Hellish powers to make a miracle and whisk himself away and yet, his brain had stopped entirely. He hoped that the rumors were not nearly as close to reality as his brothers in arms had made them out to be. If so, he was in for a world of hurt. 

He managed not to flinch, as the angel loomed over him, planting a hand near his shoulder. They were of similar height, the angel was maybe half an inch shorter at most, so it was a claustrophobic moment before the angel leaned back and smirked. Well, the closest he could bring to mind for the look on his face was a smirk, yet something about it seemed hollow. Sad, even, despite the otherwise swarminess of it. He narrowed his eyes as the other took a step back and patted at his clothing.

“I feel that we could come to an agreement, between the two of us. I wish to do my tasks, I'm sure you wish to do your own. I don't see any point in making our lives any harder than they have to be, so I don't prevent you from your work, you don't prevent me from mine. Perhaps we grab a meal occasionally and call everything a wash, what do you say?” Zaqiel said after a moment, his too cheerful tone setting of alarm bells in Abaddon's head. 

“Why would you want to eat with me?” Abaddon asked, as he tried to covertly examine the angels features. 

This was the closest he had gotten to one without immediately being set back to Hell to try and recover a physical form once more. All his memories of angels were blindingly white, hot searing pain in his tender aching joints. Flashes of eyes burning with a heat that he was drawn to no matter how much it hurt. He was always so cold, now a days. 

“Can't a being just desire a bit of company? We are both on Earth for the unforeseeable future, why not have a pleasant experience?” Zaqiel tried again, gritting his teeth at the fact that his love was so cautious. 

It warmed him slightly to know that his behaviors were still the same, even if it frustrated him to no end. 

“I...suppose...” The demon said, before gifting the angel with a small smile. “Sure, Zaqiel. I will agree to your terms.” 

“Perfect! I'll be in touch, Abaddon.” The angel said, before turning and walking off into the forest, leaving the demon to sag against the tree.

Abaddon's entire physical form was thrumming with a need to run, to fight, to something. But he forced himself to just breathe, and get back to his work. There were humans to tempt and sway, and he was free to do so, as long as the angel kept his word.

He furrowed his brow for a moment before realizing something. 

He had never given the angel his name.


End file.
